“Held”

Foundry UMC

Held

A sermon preached by Rev. Ginger E. Gaines-Cirelli at Foundry UMC, June 10, 2018, the third Sunday after Pentecost and Pride Sunday. A Tempo sermon series.

Texts: Isaiah 41:8-13, Acts 17:16-28

Back in the mid-80’s, the band U2 had a hit called “I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For.”[i] When I went back and read the lyrics, I recognized in that 1980’s song the same yearning addressed by Saint Augustine in his book The Confessions written at the turn of 5th century of the Common Era. A famous prayer from that book is, “Our hearts are restless until they find their rest in thee.” For Augustine, this was not a naïve, untested sentiment, but rather a reality discovered through the crucible of living, through relentless looking for meaning and happiness. As one author puts it, “Behind Augustine are a succession of desperate searches for fulfillment: excessive pleasures, false religions, philosophy, dissipation and distractions—futilities that left him so weary of himself he could only cry out, ‘How long, O Lord, how long?’”[ii] In other words, Augustine had tried to find what he was looking for all over the place, in all the obvious ways presented by the world, and yet remained restless and unsatisfied, not at peace or happy. He still hadn’t found what he was looking for.

What he finally discovered is that fulfillment, peace, and purpose are found most profoundly through life in God, relationship with God, loving God, being loved by God, being held in the grace and mercy of God—this is the context in which it is possible to truly find rest. Our Christian tradition affirms that we live and move and have our being in God. We are always surrounded by God’s grace and mercy and love—whether we know or acknowledge it or not. What United Methodists call God’s “prevenient grace” is always present and at work, loving and nudging and holding us. Active awareness of this reality is a form of prayer.

A couple of weeks ago, I shared a story about my first spiritual retreat and my surprise that the initial “exercise” I was given consisted of floating on a raft in the pool and simply imagining the raft as God holding me. I was directed to spend my first couple of days “resting in God.” It wasn’t as easy as it might sound. In the world, we get used to the idea that we have to always strive for things, to produce things, search for things, to be a certain way, to prove ourselves, to measure up, to succeed and put on a happy face and pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and convince ourselves and others that we are OK and that life isn’t as hard as it is sometimes… How can we possibly just “rest in God” with all that to manage? Don’t we need to get busy??

Add to that, to be held in God requires trust and trust is not a simple proposition. When we’ve been burned, trusting anyone or anything becomes a challenge. Trust is hard—for some of us more than others. There are big trust questions that may make it difficult to allow ourselves to be held in God: Is God really there? Does God want me or love me? If God holds me will I be OK? Will I be held back or set free? These questions are too big and deep to address fully this morning.

But on this Pride weekend when we celebrate the beauty and gifts of LGBTQ people—and do so in active, sacred resistance to a world and church that continues to discriminate and reject; at the end of a week that saw two well-known people (Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain) end their lives through suicide after long struggles with depression; and in the face of heart-rendingly cruel policies inflicted by our government upon migrant children and their families[iii] and so many other parts of our human family, it seems particularly fitting that I had planned to focus today on prayer as simply being held in God. I hope you will forgive me if I don’t try to parse the biblical text or provide subtle and nuanced theological responses to the big questions today. I like doing both of those things—or a least trying to do them.

But today, what I want to do is to simply invite all of us to consider the Christian promise that Augustine experienced firsthand and that we hear through the prophet Isaiah—that God is with us and holds us. The word of God through Isaiah includes these words: “I have chosen you and [will] not cast you off; do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand… I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, ‘Do not fear, I will help you.’”

These words can sound hollow when we are in a place of deep affliction. We want God to make it so that human beings aren’t so cruel or vulnerable to despair and illness; we want God to fix things so that we aren’t so insecure or afraid, so that we can share the fullness of who we are with confidence and with pride. But the scriptures never promise that troubles and trials will not come; in fact we are basically assured of them. In a well-known passage from Isaiah we are told that it is not if but when we pass through the flood and walk through fire that God will be with us. (Isaiah 43:1-2) God will be with us and will care for us in the midst of our suffering, whatever it may be.

This, for me, is not an idle promise or just a hopeful thought. It is my own personal experience and part of my core testimony. When I was in my mid-twenties and suffering from a deep clinical depression, I distinctly remember a moment when, alone in my little garage apartment in New Haven, I announced to the universe that I was done with God and done with faith and done with trying to be loving and patient and done with caring so much. Because nothing matters and nothing changes and it’s all too hard and I was tired of trying and angry at the injustice and cruelty in the world and it’s all a mess so why bother…?! And in that moment I became aware of a presence with me. I knew that God was there with me. Now, you may imagine what happened next is that I immediately fell into God in bliss and peace. But what actually happened is that I screamed at God until I was out of breath. My primary message? “Go away! I don’t want you here. Leave me alone. I’ll find my way without you. You have allowed the world—and me!—to fall into this pit.” And then God stayed. I can’t explain how I know this. I can’t paint a word picture of the experience. All I can do is tell the story as directly and honestly as I can. I knew that God was with me, assuring me that I didn’t have to take on all the inner voices of despair and desolation, all the voices of nihilism and self-destruction, all the injustices of the world by myself. God was there to strengthen, to help, to guard my life.

God showed up then and held me when I hated myself and despaired for the world and was pretty much done with life. And God showed up in my friend April who insisted on staying with me even when I told her to go away too. And God showed up through a system that got me some counseling and medication to address my illness. Again and again over the course of a 10 year struggle, the presence I felt when I was alone, showed up in and through others. Friends it is so important to show up, to be patient and persistent, to be kind. I am one of the lucky ones who was eventually able to get access to treatment and for whom that treatment has resulted in freedom from chronic depression.

But, as with any illness, that is not always the case. Some people struggle throughout their entire lives to manage the highs and lows of mental illness. Some have no access to treatment. Some folks may think they are supposed to feel miserable because they’ve been told they are bad or wrong or broken. The statistics for LGBTQ youth and adults whose depression leads to suicide reveals an epidemic of the church and society’s own making.[iv] For many people from all walks of life, self-medication—trying to fix ourselves or fill the void through all sorts of unhealthy substances or practices—often makes things worse, not better.

And sometimes, the disease takes over and a person dies. And I want to be very clear—because over the course of history, the church has done harm with its teaching—death by suicide is the result of disease. Terrible diseases like cancer and heart disease invade people’s bodies. Sometimes, folks recover or are able to control the diseases through treatment and live long lives. Other times, not. When that happens, we have to confront the infuriating reality that we cannot control diseases, only walk together on the journey. And, I hasten to add, we may not be able to heal mental illness, but we—as the church—can and must do everything in our power to correct the discriminatory policies and theologies that trigger or fuel it!

The message today is that you don’t have to be healthy for God to hold you. You don’t have to be happy for God to hold you. You don’t have to be in or out of the closet for God to hold you. You don’t have to have a great romantic relationship for God to hold you. You don’t have to be suffering for God to hold you. You don’t have to understand things for God to hold you. You don’t have to be rich, you don’t have to be poor, you don’t have to be employed or to make straight A’s or to be strong or part of the “in” crowd for God to hold you. You don’t have to cheer for the winning team for God to hold you. No matter where you are, who you are, or how you are, you are held in God’s love and grace. God is with you. And when the floods threaten to overwhelm or the fires grow to their hottest point, when inner voices, other people, or earthly systems of empire strive against you, contend with you, are at war with you—God says, “Do not be afraid. I will help you.”

One of the most powerful practices of prayer is to simply acknowledge that God is holding you and loving you just as you are—and then to let yourself be held. God will never cast you off even if others do. And on this Pride weekend I will not fail to say out loud that this kind of prayer, this being with God and being held in God—even with the smallest shred of trust on your part—is the primary prayer the church should encourage for all of us who are trying to be and become fully ourselves. LGBTQ friends, whatever garbage you have heard about “praying the gay away” is just that: garbage. I encourage you—and all!: Let yourself be held in God; ask God to help you know yourself as God knows you. That will give you plenty to work with and to work on. And it will ultimately set you free.

[i] https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/u2band/istillhaventfoundwhatimlookingfor.html

[ii] https://christianhistoryinstitute.org/incontext/article/augustine/

[iii] https://www.nytimes.com/2018/06/07/us/children-immigration-borders-family-separation.html?hp&action=click&pgtype=Homepage&clickSource=story-heading&module=first-column-region®ion=top-news&WT.nav=top-news

[iv] https://www.thetrevorproject.org/resources/preventing-suicide/facts-about-suicide/#sm.0001vmoqrhqlqdskwrv1js9ko5xu2